


three saturdays

by 100demons



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, Gen Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 12:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100demons/pseuds/100demons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Saturdays, they went cruising towards the court on Aomine’s battered old bike with Kuroko perched on the handlebars, one hand holding a bright blue popsicle, the other curled around a freshly pumped ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	three saturdays

_sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun_

On Saturdays, they went cruising towards the court on Aomine’s battered old bike with Kuroko perched on the handlebars, one hand holding a bright blue popsicle, the other curled around a freshly pumped ball.

“Oi, move your damn head,” Aomine panted, craning his neck around Kuroko’s slim frame. “I actually want to play with my limbs attached.”

“You have the way memorized,” Kuroko said, unperturbed, and licked at his popsicle. “You could probably make it there blindfolded and with your feet tied up.”

The streets were clear, the quiet hour when most kids were inside still watching cartoons and adults had just started work. A lone cat yowled at them as he pedaled past it, nearly running over its ratty tail.

“You could have killed it,” Kuroko observed, his voice faintly reproachful.

“Whose bike is this again?” Aomine snorted.

“Curb coming up,” Kuroko said and the two of them leaned to the right as one, cutting the corner of the street with the wind at their heels, gears _click-click-clicking_ with the motion. A fence of woven wires rose up in the horizon, growing taller with every pump of his legs and Aomine felt his blood rush at the sight, unconsciously tightening his grip on the handlebars.

“You think that what’s his name, the one with the cornrows, you think he might be back?”

“I can not say for sure,” Kuroko said and sucked on his popsicle with a meditative air. “But it seemed like he did not enjoy being beaten by a first year middle school student, so he might be back for a revenge game.”

“I like the sound of that,” Aomine said dreamily, eyes unfocusing a little. “Revenge game.”

“Aomine-kun.”

“Hm?”

“Please stop or else we might run into the bike rack.”

Aomine snapped back into focus just in time to see the bright glare of sunlight reflecting off metal, resolving itself into a sleek row of bikes after a few seconds. “Shit, shit--!!” He threw himself to the left, gripped his hand brakes as hard as he could, closed his eyes and hoped for the best.

The best turned out to be a tree, a new dent on his already beat-up bike and a shiny new bruise already forming on his knee, where he slammed it against the concrete. “Hey,” Aomine said, picking himself up from the ground and inspecting his new battle wound. “If you look at it from the side, it looks like Jesus.”

Kuroko looked up at him from the ground, picking at the watery remnants of his popsicle on his shirt. “I wasn’t even halfway finished with it,” he said, his voice very quiet.

Aomine swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll buy you a new one?” he offered and stuck out his hand.

“A vanilla shake,” Kuroko agreed and hauled himself up with Aomine’s help. They wheeled over the poor bike over to the bike rack (Aomine tried not to look at how many broken metal pieces he was leaving behind) and locked it into place, looking even shabbier in comparison to its rack-mates.

Aomine spun the ball on a fingertip as they walked over to the entrance, ears already picking up the familiar screech of rubber on asphalt. “Rules,” he prompted, holding the ball in front of Tetsu’s face.

Kuroko gave a very small sigh. “We don’t have to do this every week.”

Aomine shoved the ball even closer to Tetsu’s face. “Rules,” he repeated.

“One. I will count to ten when I get angry at someone else’s dishonest play. Two. If I must confront the other person, I will tell Aomine-kun so that I can have back-up in the fight. Three. Never throw the first punch. Four. I buy my own ice for my own bruises.” Kuroko picked at the wet stain on the front of his shirt with an almost petulant air.

“Ok!” Aomine said cheerily and tossed the ball in the air. “Let’s play!”

* * *

 

“Nijimura’s gonna give you laps again when he sees that black eye,” Aomine said, throwing a GariGariKun popsicle in the air. Kuroko caught it neatly one handed and pressed it against his left eye.

“Every action has its consequences,” Kuroko said, sucking at the vanilla milkshake in his right hand.

“Where the fuck did you get that from, Tetsu, a fortune cookie?” Aomine folded his long legs and settled down on the stairs of the park, unwrapping his own ice cream.

“A book. It’s like a fortune without the cookie bit on the outside,” Kuroko said and dodged a punch to the head.

“Oi, oi,” Aomine protested, but without any real heat. “Jeez, that guy was a total asshole though. Stepping on toes, elbows to the face.” Aomine shook his head. “Probably gave that guy with the glasses an ankle sprain.”

“Probably,” Kuroko nodded. “The laps will be worth it.”

“Dumbass,” Aomine said and held out a fist. Kuroko gave him a smile, set down his milkshake and bumped it with his own.

“Wait until my snack run is over until you go around starting more fights,” Aomine said, looking away and over at the horizon, the setting sun gilding the trees with a rich gold.

“Yes,” Kuroko said and picked up his milkshake.

* * *

 

_and much too blind to see the damage he's done_

“I’ve been seeing you a lot more these days, Kuroko-kun.” The librarian took his card and peered at the stack of books on the counter, adjusting her glasses with a slender hand. “Oh, let’s see-- _Amrita_ , Oscar Wilde, ah and I see you have a copy of Kirino’s latest book. A good selection,” she said approvingly and scanned his card.

“Thank you,” Kuroko said and accepted his card with a slight bow. As the librarian scanned the books, he methodically packed them into his school bag and slung it over his shoulder.

“Shall I tell your mother you stopped by? She’s entering in the new orders we have, but if you wait a moment, I can call her up from the back.” She turned towards the phone at her desk, head turned away.

Kuroko bowed again. “Thank you very much Murasaki-san but it won’t be necessary. Have a nice day.”

“Thank y--” she blinked and looked up but Miko’s boy had long disappeared from sight.

* * *

 

An average loop of the Yamanote line took sixty one minutes, depending on the time and amount of people. It was more than enough time for Kuroko to get through the first three chapters of _Amrita_ and go through his YAMANOTE PLAYLIST one and a half times. Two more loops and his eyes started throbbing so he switched playlists, to something that would drown out the low-level chatter and the screech of the train, wheels grinding against steel tracks.

He dozed during the fifth loop, put away his books during the sixth and pulled out his math workbook in an attempt to study for the high school entrance exam. He put away everything again during the seventh and fended off people’s attempts to sit on his lap.

During the eighth, someone sat down next to him and pulled out a copy of _Basketball Monthly_.

“The Generation of Miracles,” Kuroko read aloud from the cover and the owner’s head shot up, nearly colliding with Kuroko’s nose.

“The hell? Since when were you sitting there?”

Kuroko refrained from pointing out that he had been sitting in the same seat all day. “Is that Teikou’s middle school on the cover?” he asked instead.

The man shook his head ruefully, one hand tugging at his necktie. “So you’ve heard of them too, huh? Well, who hasn’t. They’re rumored to be the strongest middle school team in the country but their team this year, they’re all monsters.”

“Are they,” Kuroko said tonelessly. “I see.” He collected his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “I hope you enjoy reading it.” The door chimed open as he stood up and he slipped past the crowds and into the city.

* * *

 

_sometimes a man must awake to find that really, he has no-one_

>   
>  MIDORIMA SHINTAROU: saturday, feb 23. aquarius 5th place. lucky item: daruma doll. make sure you’re on time with the idiot.

Kuroko flipped his phone shut and knocked on Kagami’s door. “Kagami-kun. Kagami-kun, we’ll be late for the game and then Akashi-kun will bring out his scissors again.”

The door swung open suddenly and Kagami’s face stuck out, toothpaste foam dribbling down his chin and onto his shirt. “Whargum!” Kagami said, eyebrows pointing up and down in a post-modern interpretative dance.

“You know what Akashi-kun is like,” Kuroko said and slipped past Kagami and into the apartment.

Kagami retreated into the bathroom, scrubbing at his teeth furiously and Kuroko let Kagami fume in peace while he filled up his water bottle.

“I,” Kagami said darkly, emerging from the bathroom with a towel draped over his head, “don’t understand how I even got mixed up in this mess.”

“You were the one who challenged Aomine-kun to a one-on-one,” Kuroko pointed out, twisting the cap on his bottle shut.

“One-on-one!” Kagami said, whipping the towel off and throwing it into the hamper. “It means that it was just gonna be me and Aomine. When did everyone else get involved?”

Kuroko tucked his bottle away and gave Kagami a pointed look. “Momoi-san always goes where Aomine-kun goes. Kise-kun was interested because where you and Aomine-kun are involved, things are likely to spontaneously combust and he has never cultivated his self-preservation instinct, to the detriment of his health. Midorima-kun and Murasakibara-kun are coming because Akashi-kun is, and no one knows why Akashi-kun is.”

Kagami was quiet for a very long moment. “Wow, you guys are all crazy fuckers,” he said.

“Yes,” Kuroko said and snapped his black sweatbands on. “Are you coming?”

Kagami gave him a wolfish grin. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

**Author's Note:**

> lyrics from _lover, you should have come over_ by jeff buckley, a song which (un)suprisingly, is perfect for my mountain of aomine/kuroko feelings


End file.
